Topher Lydon
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Everything posted by Topher Lydon
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Ain't nobody as fast as that, I'm in my prime
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I cover this in Goofball, but yes. Brad and his cronies go to prison. The little Baptist boy testified against them, Little Jason Jenson doing the first true and honest thing in his life and saving West's life. Small actions, massive outcomes.
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here's the latest, enjoy, sorry it's a bit early: https://gayauthors.org/story/topher-lydon/buckshot/prologue
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Why, how? WHY DOES it always hate me when it comes to new stories. Well this is three hours early... @drpaladin don't shoot me... I need new glasses, I set the timer thingy but I forgot to click the damn tiny silly switch toggle thingy... Why is it so small! I am sorry... so... enjoy this little Western.
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Buckshot _______ Chapter 1: The Silver Creek Proposition The stagecoach deposited Elias Sawyer into Silver Creek on a tide of mud and false promises. The air was thin and cold, carrying the scents of wet pine, coal smoke from the distant stamp mill, and the underlying, sweet-rotten smell of a boomtown gone bust. He took it all in with a sweeping gaze—the bustling side of the street with its saloon and bank, standing in stark contrast to the decaying, boarded-up failures on the other
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Prologue – Down on the Farm The boredom in the old farmhouse was a physical presence, a heavy, invisible fog that seeped under doors and curled around the ankles of the Harding clan’s captive youth. It was late spring of 2021, and the world had shrunk to the dimensions of Jon Harding’s 150-acre patch of Ontario. For two months, this had been their “bubble,” a parent-brokered treaty against the isolation of lockdown, trading suburban cul-de-sacs for the unyielding reality of mud, muck, and t
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Silver Creek is dying, greed and corruption are bleeding it dry. A lost lawman, Sawyer, finds himself trapped in the death throes of a town in decline. Theodore Harding, local savant and guide has to keep him alive long enough to make a difference. Horses, gunsmoke, and silver. The two lawmen must make a last stand, and help the townsfolk break free of the grip of Cobb's Red Sash Gang, and the closing fist of the Pinkerton Detective Agency set to betray them all. Folk up and risk everything on a long journey North, to safety and a chance to build a real lasting life for themselves.
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i mean, I think the most I have ever written in a day was 12 thousand.... and that was... a heck of a lot of coffee... Like I was humming like a Nuclear Power plant, and I could see time... um... :: grins :: anyone got a hammer?
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Looks at chapter 30... and the heavy Under Renovation sign... So I might have had to attack that chapter with a Hatchet to get this one out this morning... so .... I am going to spend tomorrow morning (the wee hours before dawn) doing a tinsy... tiny (Sounds of collapsing timbers and shattering glass) little fix to it... to you know... get it ready... Don't mind the mess... it will all be cleaned up by tomorrow morning.
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It is insane. So much time, so much has changed. I am wrapped up in a poncho (don't ask, fashion was never my strong suit) sipping coffee, and trying not to get too emotional. I will have something shiny and New for you lot at Lunch time (about five hours from now) so... this old decript, poncho wearing mad man isn't done yet.
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Twenty years ago today I released this book. Thank you, and I mean that with tears in my eyes, and full of emotion. It was the first released, and the first you, all of you, picked up and read. of my work. I was young, a bit dumb, and just a messy man, but this went out in 2005. Picked up and read, and enjoyed. I am touched that it is still read to this day.
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By the way, Happy Carter Day, This day, twenty years ago, I released Carter's Army out into the wild. It was the publication day, so... wow... twenty years of this one. Twenty years... I am so unbelievably old now... But each of you have made this journey with me. And I am happy for that. Twenty years ago those two boys in a crashed car started a story that's grown, evolved with my writing, with each of your input, and with a lot... hundreds... thousands of hours of work. Thousands of cups of coffee... I am sure I have put kids through college with the amount of Tim Hortons bought to write these books... wow... thank you
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I have worked my tail off rewriting much of this one this morning. I hope it's stronger now, I feel that it is. I do feel a little like I was shoring up a dam this morning, but I think my little dutch boy has stuck his finger into the hole... in the Dam... IN THE DAM!!!!! shut up, I'm tired, where's my caffeine.. you guys are awful.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine WORLD END: T-minus 98 days, 0 hours, and 45 minutes PMO, Parliament Hill, Ottawa, Ontario CBC NEWS SPECIAL REPORT: THE UNITY MOTION ANCHOR (Rosemary Barton): We are interrupting programming for a historic and extraordinary moment in Canadian politics. Moments ago, Prime Minister William Carter concluded his address to the House of Commons with an unprecedented motion: a call for an immediate vote of confidence in his own governmen
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Kenny is nothing if not consistent
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The next book should be interesting. 32 chapters to this one.
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Crazy Stuff That Jeff Says
Topher Lydon replied to Jeff Burton's topic in Random Thoughts and Statuses
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I do enjoy their dynamics. Kenny and Alex's bickering, Brian and Steve's buddy arc. Going to mix up the dynamic next book, see how Steve and Alex do as a team, because our two resident Hockey players are going to be Awesome (Go Storm!)
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If it passes, Will would have a mandate unlike any in Canadian history. He will be, for all intents and purposes, unassailable politically. In history we have three kinds of Rulers. Those who start with power and loose it, those who never hold it, and those who go from a position of weakness to one of Iron. Abernathy is about to meet the King of the North in direct battle, and Will is pissed.
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The story is now marked as complete. Please leave your review, each one helps me with visibility and your recommendations keep me writing more.
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Chapter 19: The New Calculus The air in Los Cabos tasted of salt and distant bougainvillea, a heavy, humid sweetness that was the polar opposite of the dry, frozen chill of the Robert-Bourassa Dam. It was the scent of safety, wealth, and escape. Every breath felt unearned, a moment of profound, quiet grace after the week of fear and chaos. Kenny woke to the relentless, rhythmic sound of the Pacific Ocean—a sound so constant and peaceful it felt like a lullaby crafted specifically
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Happy non-Canadian Turkey day, some of us celebrate it on the correct date :: Waves Canadian Flag::
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Here's hoping Caleb was right... wow words I never thought I'd say...
